


Micro-Praxians

by monochromeRainbows, silberstreif



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cultural Differences, Dildos, Hilarity Ensues, Hospital, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Praxian culture in Iacon, long and hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 16:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6383242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monochromeRainbows/pseuds/monochromeRainbows, https://archiveofourown.org/users/silberstreif/pseuds/silberstreif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are Praxians. And there are big, convoy-class-Praxians. And then there are tiny, badass micro-Praxians with wings, who can glide around and are mightily fond of acid. Attacking them will just get you shot, until they land on your unmoving body, which swims in a newly created sea of acid. Why are you so big anyway? Just a bigger target.</p><p>But have you ever wondered what those tiny monsters transform into?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Micro-Praxians

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Starfire201
> 
> This was the result of a highly hilarious chat with monochromeRainbows.

 

**Micro-Praxians**

 

The Praxian frowned down on his small comrade. This was not how it was supposed to go. Maybe he was shy? Why else hadn’t he transformed yet?

"Come on, little one. I feel bad if it's just me," he tried to coax it to move. "Or are you one of those kinky ones who like to pretend they're transform locked? I can do kinky!"

He smiled brightly. But when there was no reaction **,** that smile faltered a bit.

"Little one? Are you okay?"

He dared to touch it, rubbing something he thought might be part of the audio design.

*vzzzzz*

Finally! A reaction! Only… "Little one? Answer me. Comm me. Just… you can do something else besides vibrate, right? You are not stuck?" Concern welled up in his spark. Carefully, he touched the same spot again.

*vzzzzz*

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. "If you don’t say anything in the next astrosecond, I am calling a medic!"

Nothing. Oh Primus.

"Slag. Just… be calm, yes and hang on? I am sure, we can find someone to help you." He carefully picked him up and petted the head. "I'll find you a medic, don’t worry, this will be fixed soon!"

He hoped. Fierce as the tiny ones were, they were also so terrible fragile.

~ ~ ~

A few breems later **,** a panicked Praxian practically stormed into an Iaconian hospital with a dildo in hand.

"He doesn't transform or respond!" he cried out in the Emergency Room. "Help, please! Someone!" The Praxian looked around, searching for the medical personal.

A nurse, with the glyphs First Aid on his bumper, looked at his hands then up and smiled uncertainly. "Ummm, that’s... not the type of service we offer here..."

"But he needs help!" Frantically, the Praxian pushed the dildo towards First Aid.

First Aid took half a step back. "But that’s… what? He? That's just a toy."

"...What? How dare you imply he's a toy!" The doorwings formed an angry V. "And you call yourself a medic!"

"Nurse, actually," corrected First Aid automatically.

"Then you can help!"

"Ehh, yes." First Aid gulped. ".. uhh... just a nanoklik."

"Yes, yes, I wait." The Praxian vented, clearly worried and cradled the dildo closer

Discreetly, First Aid called Rung in the psychiatric department, who advised bringing the patient to him with the help of a nice, big security guard **.**

The Praxian petted the dildo. "You have the needed experts here right? I mean, I know this is a small hospital..."

"Of course," promised First Aid **,** and looked hopefully towards the door.

A massive guard entered with something white in hand. "Sir, step away from the toy... I'm here to help."

"He's no toy!" snapped the Praxian, but he obeyed and stepped slowly away. "But you can help him, yes? Please?"

"We’ll certainly try," said the guard not unkindly. "Now, if you'll follow me, we've gotta get you strapped into a nice comfortable jacket."

"... what!" The Praxian squeaked and his doorwings flew upwards. "I am sane! And he might be dying! Why aren't you helping him?!"

"I understand you are having delusions that your toy is alive, and I want to help." The guard tried to usher the Praxian through a door to a more secluded area. But the Praxian had none of it and escaped time and again.

"No, no!" He tried to remain near it, but eventually the security guard captured his arm. "You don't understand! He's no toy, he's a micro. Just a little one and they break so easily. ..." He sobbed. "Please, just... just make sure he's alright."

The guard and First Aid exchanged a look, then the nurse shrugged. "Okay, okay! I'll, um... scan him..."

The Praxian relaxed, and the guard let his arm free.

First Aid really tried to scan the dildo without laughing. Really. "There... see? No spark, no processor... your um... friend was never sentient, I'm sorry."

The Praxian froze. "Never sentient," he repeated and stared at the dildo, then at the medic. "But...it looks like a little one? Just the form and everything." He wrung his hands in clear distress, doorwings trembling.

The nurse blinked slowly and the guard made a shooing gesture. He stared to back away. "You have living dildos where you come from?"

"What? What is a dildo?" He frowned, then erupted with sudden anger: "The younglings from the hotel reception must have wanted to prank me! They will regret that! Making me think someone is dying goes entirely too far!"

"I'm sure they didn't mean to..." The nurse stopped, reconsidered **,** and said, "Well never mind. You see, here we have... umm, fake spikes for pleasure. And that just so happens to be one." He shook his helmet. "I'm sure you can do more in **-** depth research later if you want to."

"Fake... spikes. Your entire city?!" The Praxian looked like he was waiting for someone to scream ‘got you, just a joke!’ "Like drones? Isn't it a bit impersonal if you don't know if the other has a good time?"

"The fake spikes don't feel anything, they're for your pleasure only. If you don't want a partner it's the next best thing." The nurse started fidgeting nervously.

"They're just dead. And you put them into your valve? Oh Primus! I nearly put a dead thing into my valve!" He looked sick.

The nurse straightened with alarm. "No, no. Not dead... just... never alive. Just... a tool."

"Isn't that even worse? Just a step below rape. Self-rape with an unfeeling, unsparked _thing_!" The Praxian stumbled to the nearest chair and sat down hard. "Primus. What is _wrong_ with you Iaconians?!"

"I... ah... uh..." The nurse stared at him speechless, looking for help **,** but no one in the room would even meet his optics. "Right. Is there anything else we can help you with today?" Professionality was the last anchor.

The Praxian whimpered. "Processor wipe? A ticket back home?"

"Well, this should do." The nurse typed up an excuse for medical leave. At least now he knew what that ‘Sexual anxiety and depression caused by cultural divergence’ meant. "I hope you feel better soon."

He took the medical leave and nodded **,** defeated. "I hope so." He paused. "Don't you feel guilty?"

"…I've got a lot to think about after this encounter." The nurse exvented audibly.

"Me too," he said quietly and looked back to the dildo sadly. "Goodbye **,** little one that never existed."

With low hanging doorwings, the Praxian walked out of the hospital and straight to the shuttle port.

And this is why there are so few Praxians outside of Praxus.


End file.
